


Don't Know Us As Well As You Think

by afteriwake



Series: In So Few Words [33]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angry Molly Hooper, Annoyed Irene Adler, Annoyed Sherlock Holmes, F/F, First Meetings, Flirting, Flirty Irene, POV Sherlock Holmes, Past Irene Adler/Sherlock Holmes, Past Molly Hooper/Tom - Freeform, Post-Episode: s03e01 The Empty Hearse, Pre-Irene Adler/Molly Hooper, Pre-Relationship, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes & Molly Hooper Friendship, Sherlock Is A Bit Not Good, Sherlock is a Brat, Shy Molly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-10-27 23:19:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10818861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: Irene issupposedto be laying low until he was sure all her enemies are taken care of. She isnotsupposed to shadow him or pop up at the morgue at Barts, and she iscertainlynot supposed to flirt with his pathologist. And bloody hell, Molly isnotsupposed to flirt back.





	Don't Know Us As Well As You Think

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mouse9](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mouse9/gifts).



> This prompt (“ _When Molly first sees Irene, The Woman is strolling into the morgue where Molly is working with Sherlock. Hooper steps back, ready to fade away like she does with many of the people who come to see the remarkable Sherlock Holmes. But Irene doesn’t spare Sherlock as much as a glance. She looks Molly directly in the eyes, swiftly extending a well-manicured hand. 'What is your name,' she asks cheekily, making Molly blush. 'And where on Earth has Sherlock been keeping you?'_ ”, from this post on Tumblr [here](http://molrenehadler.tumblr.com/post/145210150460/molrene-imagine)by **molrenehadler** ") was originally claimed by **a_dark_day** for Molly Madness Month in March and I just got to writing it (my apologies!) because it also was in a folder claimed by **Mouse9** of random fics of mine to write.

The click of heels on tile got his attention, pulling it away from the rather important information that Molly was giving him. Heels on tile was unusual here in the morgue; most female DIs and sergeants wore trainers if they weren’t out making calls to inform families of losses or gather information by talking to witnesses, and even then, it was sensible flats. Donovan once said, when their relationship had mended a bit, it was more practical when it came to chasing suspects; throw in a dirt lot after a heavy rain and a woman in heels could be stuck with a broken heel thanks to it being stuck in the mud, ruined pumps, or worst of all, the loss of the shoe altogether. He had to admit she had a fair point there.

So, probably not a Yarder.

Hospital administration was a possibility. Molly had mentioned Stamford had moved out of the department so he wasn’t there as a buffer, so there could always have been some feathers he ruffled that required a visit from one of Molly’s superiors. Not that he could remember, but he’d been balancing his cases, his newly reestablished life, and--

The door swung open and he scowled.

“Irene,” he said, his tone dark.

“You can’t keep me locked in that flat of yours _all_ the time,” she said, matching him with a glare. She came closer and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Molly begin to retreat towards the refrigerated shelving unit holding the bodies, trying to make herself as inconspicuous as possible. She probably thought she was in the middle of a lover’s tiff, which this was certainly not. There had been one night in Karachi, where Irene had rather expertly divested him of that virginity issue Mycroft loved to tease about, and then it had been relying on each other from time to time as he took down Moriarty’s network and, in turn, her enemies. They weren’t lovers, but they weren’t friends. They were _something_ , he just wasn’t sure what, but he knew it wasn’t romantic and it wasn’t sexual.

“You still have enemies mucking about,” he said, deciding to ignore her and turning to the body he’d been examining, hoping she got the hint. Instead, he heard a delighted head and his head snapped up.

Irene had noticed Molly and was moving in for the kill.

Bloody hell.

She stepped into Molly’s personal face, extending her hand, her perfectly manicured fingers tipped in red gently lifting Molly’s chin up until they were looking eye to eye. She gave Molly a warm yet provocative smile, one he was quite sure Molly hadn’t received from a woman before, and certainly never _anyone_ like Irene. “What is your name?” she asked, her voice cheeky and warm, making Molly blush. “And where on Earth has Sherlock been keeping you?”

“She’s Molly Hooper, she’s my pathologist and she’s not your plaything,” Sherlock said in a huff.

“I didn’t know you had dibs,” Irene said, turning to pout at him.

“He doesn’t,” Molly said.

Both Sherlock and Irene turned their attention to Molly, Irene with a satisfied smile and Sherlock in shock. Was she...was Molly flirting back? “You don’t--” he began.

“If he fancies me he never made a bloody move,” she said, continuing. “And I moved on. I knew he was alive, and as long as his brother didn’t pop up on my doorstep I could be alright with things. I even got engaged. But he came back and Tom got one look at him and...” Molly shook her head. “I doubt he even knew my engagement was over.”

“Did you, Sherlock?” Irene asked in a teasing tone.

“Not my concern,” he said.

Molly shook her head. “You see what I deal with? My engagement ends because we’re _friends_ and he doesn’t even notice! So absorbed with...I don’t know.”

“It’s certainly not me,” Irene said. “I doubt he’s lifted a single finger towards making sure I’m safer now than I was when he pulled his Houdini act.” She turned and planted her hands on her side of the silver table directly across from Sherlock. “Your best mate and his fiancee and your cases are _vastly_ more important than keeping an ex-lover safe.”

“Once,” he said, turning to the body and deciding it was best if he ignored _both_ women and concentrated on the evidence. The killer wouldn’t be kind enough to walk up to Scotland Yard and turn him or herself in, after all.

“Oh, but once was _more_ than enough,” she said. When she got no response, she shook her head and then turned to Molly. “Can we leave him here by himself? I think he’s making it clear our presence is no longer desired.”

“I suppose,” Molly said. “I mean, I can’t go far. I don’t trust him around body parts as far as I can throw him.”

Irene looked Molly up and down. “Maybe we could talk in your office until His Highness deigns to give us his attention, then?”

“That could work,” she said, and soon he heard two receding footsteps, Molly’s familiar loafers and Irene’s heels. Only when there was silence did he hang his head. This did _not_ bode well for him...


End file.
